


Haunted

by angelica_barnes



Series: Insanity [2]
Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/M, taylor's crazy, they're siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica_barnes/pseuds/angelica_barnes
Summary: it's hard having a mad girl for a sister.





	Haunted

_ Harry’s arms slithered around Taylor from behind and she melted into his touch, just like all the other times, but not; she seemed herself, if only for a moment, unpossessed. _

_ “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered in her ear, and Taylor shook her head, eyes a burning blue. _

_ “I’m not.” _

 

 

-

 

Taylor shrieked and lunged towards Harry, punching her brother repeatedly and speaking in a language only she could understand, and Harry didn’t quite know what to do. So he stood there and took the hits, letting her fists slam against him again and again until finally they weakened. She snapped her eyes shut suddenly, going completely still, and he reached out to touch her arm, in a way of comfort, when he saw her head turn towards the corner; nothing was there.

 

 

-

 

Harry woke up to footsteps in the hall, doors opening and closing and then the linen curtains blowing, and he stood to find his sister; she was standing stock-still at the top of the stairs, her eyes glazed over and kitchen knives wedged between her fingers, eyebrows arched. Harry watched her for awhile, but she made no move, and then he began to climb the stairs, finally reaching her. She didn’t flinch when he removed the weapons from her hands, or even when he gently took her hand and hissed at the sight of broken glass shining from beneath the surface of her skin.

 

 

-

 

Harry had fallen asleep while making dinner, peppers sizzling in the frying pan and water boiling in a pot. The bags under his eyes showed exhaustion, even with the nap, and then suddenly he lurched awake at the sound of pained cries; his adjusting eyes landing on Taylor, who was hunched over by the stove, holding her hands out in front of her and wailing. Harry leaped up and rushed towards her, gently taking her injured hands in his own and guiding her towards the bathroom, where he placed them beneath the cold water, her tortured screams quieting to whimpers; he bandaged her hands, kissing each soon-to-be scar, after taking a moment to run his fingers lightly over the scorching burn marks.

 

 

-

 

Harry came up behind his sister, placing a hand on her shoulder and smiling at her in wonder as she watched the birds outside, sunken eyes beginning to brighten; he whistled to imitate the flying animals and motioned for Taylor to do the same, which she did, the trill of her airy voice floating in the air like imaginary music notes. Then suddenly she looked beyond him and her eyes dimmed, widened, and rolled back into her head, body going limp. Harry screamed her name as she collapsed and he fell to his knees, catching her just before she hit the floor. He followed where her eyes had been, but there was nobody; he stared anyway, hoping to find a trace of anything, all while cradling his broken sister in his arms.

 

 

-

 

Harry turned on the shower head and helped his sister step inside, smiling softly at the marvel in her expression. She splashed him, laughing, and he tickled her gently, earning a breathy giggle. A blush covered Taylor’s cheeks, a much-needed reminder that she wasn’t a ghost. Harry began to thread his fingers through her hair, the choppy pattern of a cut he’d been able to manage, gashes covering the back of her neck from when she’d suddenly jerked in her seat and caused his hand to slip. He undid the knots slowly, carefully, before moving on to trace the small tattoos on her back, just below her shoulders, and then slipped his hands even further down to touch the dimples carved into the sides of her spinal cord, with freckles to play connect-the-dot with. She smiled, and it wasn’t the smile he’d gotten used to; this one was real.

 

 

-

 

Harry laid the book down on his stomach, leaving it bent open to the page where they’d left off, smiling down at Taylor in her shirt that used to be his. She was snoring softly, murmuring nonsensical things that he liked to listen to, just so he could show her he cared. He stroked her hair, watching her chest move up and down in even breaths and her face, resting in a peaceful expression. It wasn’t often that Taylor seemed like she might be okay, or even on the brink of it, and he pressed a kiss to her hair and smiled as she shivered in her sleep. And then she twitched, suddenly sitting up straight in bed, eyes widening before squeezing shut to try and block the tears that were already escaping, sobs overwhelming the fragile girl. Harry’s smile disappeared and he held her close to his chest, praying she would be alright, and that whoever the hell was living inside her would get the fuck out; Taylor cried until dawn, and even then the dry heaves of breath told him she was only out of tears.

 

 

-

 

_ Harry lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes; her own glistened with the tears of a million souls trapped in one helpless body. He smiled at her, something he hadn’t dared to try in awhile, and his sister shuddered with the discomfort of something Harry couldn’t see. _

_ “I’m scared, Harry,” she whispered, and he kissed her forehead before wrapping his arms around her in comfort. _

_ “I know, Tay-Tay,” Harry murmured, as quietly as he could. “I am too.” _


End file.
